


Of Saints and Sinners

by Caroleena_Alonea



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: (sort of), Boys In Love, Bucky does, M/M, Pre-Canon, but Steve doesn't know how to say it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 07:59:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caroleena_Alonea/pseuds/Caroleena_Alonea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve always was the good one, the easing light to Bucky's dark. He looked at Bucky with awe in his eyes, not because Bucky walked outside of the lines, but because Bucky embraced his darkness like it was the only thing worth embracing. It was incredible to watch- and a little terrifying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Saints and Sinners

"...you will always be fond of me. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit." -The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde.

* * *

If you asked him, Steve Rogers would tell you that he didn't have the words to explain what exactly James Buchanan Barnes was.

He would tell you that he couldn't remember how they had become friends. It had just happened somewhere between bloody knees and black eyes from the never-ending lines of bullies and shared beds for warmth and a friendly arm slung over skinny shoulders. He'd shrug and try hard to think of how he could describe Bucky, but he'd come up empty.

He'd tell you instead about what he had seen while hanging out with Bucky. How he laughed hard when guys threw punches at him and laughed even harder when he threw them back, five times meaner and more damage inducing than they needed to be.

How he was quick to jealousy, eager to flirt with any girl that would give him more than a passing look, and had a mouth that could make the most hardened sailor blush.

He'd tell you about the way he could dance, sultry and smooth, eyes locked on with eyes and fingers intertwined.

How he could go from 0 to 100 in a second flat, always ready to win a fight.

He would pause for a moment before whispering softly about the dark look Bucky would get in his eyes whenever he watched Steve walk around their apartment in his boxers and undershirt. How he had a similar, but different dark look in his eyes on the rare occasion a dame would hit on Steve.

Steve would admit that Bucky could be terrifying when he wanted to be. How he embraced the darkness inside of him like it was the only thing worth embracing.

(Steve wouldn't admit that Bucky scared _him,_ because he _knew_ it would somehow get back to Bucky. And he really hated seeing that hurt look flash in his best friend's eyes.)

Even if he did tell you those things, it wouldn't matter because he would go on to say that Bucky was his best friend, brother-in-arms, and the only person that saw something worth keeping in the 90-pounds-when-soaking-wet nobody known as Steve Rogers. He would murmur about how he would tend to the wounds Steve would get standing up to bullies and cook supper with a cheerful whistle, making sure Steve got his fill before eating himself. And despite not having the words to describe him, Steve would smile and look away, and the look on his face would tell you everything you really needed to know about James Buchanan Barnes.

* * *

If you asked him, James Buchanan Barnes _did_ have the words to tell you exactly what Steven Grant Rogers was. He would grin and boast that he needed only _one_ word to tell you what Steve was, but he'd give you some more anyways.

He'd tell you how Steve always stood up to a bully, despite their size or shape and how he would end up broken and bloody nearly every time.

He'd tell you about the days he would come home to an injured Steve curled in the broken little chair by the radio, arms curved protectively around his ribs, lip still dripping blood.

How after he had fixed Steve up, fed him what he could, and made sure he was asleep, he would leave their rinky-dink apartment and track down the bastards that _dared_ lay a hand on the 90-pounds-when-soaking-wet nobody known as Steve Rogers.

How his nights were marked by blood and fights and coming home to wrapped himself carefully around Steve, breathing in the scent of cheap soap and something uniquely Steve.

Bucky would tell you that they became friends after he had seen the kids picking on Steve. How he saw Steve stick his chin up and refuse to let anything they said or did to him be shown on his face.

How the fury boiled in his stomach at the punches delivered to his body and the rage that burned white-hot when he took down the bullies.

He'd tell you that the lashes he got were worth the tentative smile and shyly offered piece of chocolate he was got.

Bucky would tell you that his nights were marked by the times he came home to an uninjured Steve and they could enjoy a simple dinner and each other's company and the nights when the fury inside him welled up until he wanted to kill every single son-of-bitch that dared lay his hands on Steve.

He'd smirk as he told you of how amazing Steve was at everything he did; his art, his sense of duty, his cooking, his friendship.

Then he'd fall silent before looking at you with a dark glare on his face. He'd growl that while Steve was absolutely _amazing_ and _kind,_ he was not, under any circumstances, _yours_.

Because the one word James Buchanan Barnes needed to tell you _exactly_ what Steven Rogers was, was simple.

_Mine._

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where this came from, but here it is. I suppose you could call this a prelude to Bucky's appearance as Winter Soldier? The Red Room didn't have to make the darkness because it was already there? Eh, who knows. Anyways, this is unbeta'd.


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